Stolen Moments
by Fairheartstrife
Summary: A collection of Zack x Tifa drabbles similar to my FFVII Drabbles. Stories and prompts that are one-shots, have no home, or are works to come. I hope you enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**001  
Motion: **Up and back, hitch and lift, the subtle sway of hip and curve giving way to sharper thrusts and Zack slammed his shin into a barstool, vowing never to watch Tifa while she swept again.

**002  
Cool: **His swagger was cocky, his stance arrogant, and to the cadets beneath him, he was the epitome of cool.

**003  
Young: **"Fifteen," she informed him, her manner proclaiming a worldly maturity only found in ones so young.

**004  
Last: **She was the last Lockhart, the sole remaining survivor of tragedy; he was the last SOLDIER, the sole remaining reminder of her pain.

**005  
Wrong: **She was wrong, he thought, watching her turn and walk away from him; and he intended to prove it.

**006  
Gentle: **Her fingers stroked deep grooves in the thick of his hair, firm enough to stir, gentle enough to soothe.

**007  
One: **He would be the best, and be great, and be the one that saved them all...he hoped.

**008  
Thousand: **There was a thousand reasons it wouldn't work between them, but as his hands cupped her and his body pressed, she couldn't think of one.

**009  
King: **If Sephiroth was King of the SOLDIERs, then the man beside him was the jester.

**010  
Learn: **His face burned and his lip swelled and her sharp voice told him she hoped he learned his lesson, but the curve of his lip and the twinkle in his eye said he was far from schooled.

**011  
Blur: **It happened so fast she couldn't say how it happened at all; one minute she's sweeping the floor, and the next she's pressed to the wall with Zack hot and hard between her thighs.

**012  
Wait: **He bit his lip, slowed his hips and waited for the fracture to break and his name to fill the void in the night.

**013  
Change: **Gone were lanky limbs on a budding form, and in their place muscle and curve made his mouth go suddenly dry.

**014  
Command: **"Off," she hissed, fingers scrambling along cotton and cloth.

**015  
Hold: **Hesitance burned, scorched his lungs and made vision blur, but when she didn't slap him, he could breathe again.

**016  
Need: **It was easy to want, and he did so naturally, but it was hard for him to admit he needed anything, but he needed her like the air he breathed.

**017  
Vision: **White lace and delicate bows, soft petals and a gentle smile, and his eyes misted at the vision she made walking towards him.

**018  
Attention: **Zack shifted in his chair, adjusted his pants subtly and thought what a good idea it was to place the cactuar juice on the top shelf.

**019  
Soul: **It didn't leave with you when you died, he mused, hand smoothing swollen skin and rounded bump; you passed it on.

**020  
Picture: **Sealed in an album, in a Turk office at Shin-Ra headquarters, a Monster posed, and a SOLDIER smiled at a cowgirl.

**021  
Fool: **He watched the absolute rigidity of her spine as she walked away and listened with half open ears as Barret called him out as a fool.

**022  
Mad:** A quick sidestep had the teacup sailing harmlessly past to shatter on the wall behind him, and his amused, "upset?" earned him another barrage of ceramic arsenal lobbed at his head.

**023  
Child: **The wind caught the short skirt she was wearing and Zack was forced to remind himself, for the hundredth time, that she was just a child and to keep his mind on rocky terrain and not smooth skin.

**024  
Now: **The past was a ghost in his ear, but right now, his future was warm and pliant in his arms.

**025  
Shadow: **Silver hair and glowing eyes lingered in the shadows and behind closed eyes, tainting even the good dreams with dark tendrils of what was and what could still be.

**026  
Goodbye: **Her mouth opened in startled surprise when he hauled her against his chest, bending her back over his arm in a dramatic sweep before laying claim with a scorching kiss.

**027  
Hide: **He pulled his shirt on quickly when she stepped into the room and her eyes flickered with silent understanding.

**028  
Fortune: **Cait shook his head quickly when Zack asked for his fortune and when pressed, the small stuffed cat simply said, "Your is in her hands."

**029  
Safe: **Nightmares and screams and flames from the past couldn't touch them here, in each other's arms.

**030  
Ghost: **He was supposed to be dead, she thought fleetingly, but the hot press of his body against hers proclaimed him very much _alive_.

**031  
Book:** He'd had one of those little black books with numbers and names—all the SOLDIERS did— but he'd gotten rid of it in favor of pastel pink and a sweet smile, and never regretted it.

**032  
Eye: **Their faces were close, so close that the rich, turbulent blue of his irises mesmerized her.

**033  
Never: **"Don't let go," she whispered into his neck, and he silently vowed: never.

**034  
Sing: **The sound was grating and Tifa had to muffle her laughter in the pillow when she realized that Zack Fair sang in the shower.

**035  
Sudden:** The abrupt bang on the door followed by the sudden fit of giggles had Barret rolling his eyes and making mental note to stay in the _other_ guest room next visit.

**036  
Stop: **She paused her tongue against base and pulse and Zack groaned out, "please, don't stop."

**037  
Time: **She took her time, savoring each groan and spasm of muscle and when he begged her not to stop she smiled and took him deeper.

**038  
Wash: **_Look away, look away, look away_, he chanted internally, but as the suds trailed along her athletic back all he could do was swallow and watch.

**039  
Torn: **He had promised to come back to chestnut hair and moss green eyes, but staring down into cinnamon browns veiled by deep midnight Zack questioned where his heart really belonged.

**040  
History: **History wouldn't remember him as anything more than a statistic, but she would remember him as a hero.

**041  
Power: **Sephiroth went crazy with it, Shinra was obsessed with it, and the world listened to who held the most of it, but none of them understood that the real power came from the heart.

**042  
Bother: **She swatted his hand away for the umpteenth time, and Zack pressed his lips together to stifle his chuckle and stroked against her backside again.

**043  
God: **Zack couldn't remember a time that he'd ever asked for the intervention of a higher power, but with pale skin gone cold against crimson stains, he found himself praying.

**044  
Wall: **The cool press of wall at her back was only made sharper by the heat that he stirred at her front.

**045  
Naked: **She was a sculptor's dream with lean muscle and soft curves; a dichotomy of warrior and goddess, and Zack wished he had more to offer her than his naked admiration.

**046  
Drive: **The wheel spun smoothly against leather gloves and Zack had to close his mouth as Tifa swung the car around and popped open the passenger door with a casual, "I'll drive."

**047  
Harm: **It was one kiss, stolen in the shadows of a barn, and even though she was far too young, Zack couldn't see the harm.

**048  
Precious: **He hated the word, spoken by Hojo in sickly sweet tones as his scalpel split skin and he screamed while the doctor crooned and crooned...

**049  
Hunger: **It gnawed and chaffed and howled in his blood until he thought if he didn't have her he would go insane with it.

**050  
Believe: **They would succeed; of this Zack was certain, because with Tifa at his side, he couldn't fail.


	2. Chapter 2

Dream Lover

* * *

She heard the door shut—quiet to avoid waking her or the kids—and she dimly registered the growl of Fenrir revving to life. With a sigh, Tifa rolled onto her side, eyes staring blankly at the wall, pillow mauled between agitated fingers.

He hadn't even said 'goodbye', she thought, blinking away the sting and the hurt that casual dismissal caused.  
When had it changed—again? she wondered. When had the distance and the resentment and the loneliness crept back between them and silently pushed and quietly pulled until, before they realized it, there was a chasm between them and no available bridge to cross it.

She pushed her face into the pillow, smelling only detergent and vanilla. Once, not all that long ago, she would have scented rain and wind and electric warmth. Now, the space beside her was cold and the office had become an unofficial bedroom—again—and she was so damn tired of this.

And so alone.

Why was it so easy to leave her alone? she wondered. Barret had once told her that she was too strong for her own good, and she'd laughed and wondered what the hell he could mean by that, but she got it now.

She was Tifa Lockhart. She was strong and dependable and sturdy. She could be left alone and still be okay. After all, she'd been forcing smiles and reassuring everyone since she was 8 years old. Why be surprised or hurt if people believed it?

She pressed her fingers to her eyes, snorted in disgust at the dampness she found.

It was her own damn fault, she thought with bitter resignation. Five years ago she had taken Cloud in from that train station and fallen in love. But she'd hid it-so well, he almost never found it—but he did, and they did...for awhile...and then something _else_ came up.

Geostigma tore the world—and them—apart.

But again, she stood on her own, held her family together, and when needed, she'd held Cloud together too, and eventually they'd found their way back. Back to each other, their lives and...to their semblance of normal.

It had been good—better than good—for a time, but then _something_ had shifted again...altered him or her (she really wasn't sure who changed)...and they couldn't seem to connect anymore.

It wasn't even _one_ thing, she supposed. But more of a combination of things that led to the distance. They could be seated across the table from one another and it felt like the whole of North Corel separated them.

Physical intimacy had lasted only slightly longer than the emotional loss, but even that had changed from sensual loving, to hasty fucks, to nothing at all. It had been weeks since they'd touched, and to be honest, even though the press of her own hand was relief, it was that connection she missed.

The tandem heartbeats, the salty kisses, the knowing that even if the words weren't there, they still had that.  
But they didn't.

She had tried, earlier in the week, to make that connection. Cloud had stared at her with his unblinking blue eyes and simply turned on his heel and left the room. No words, no apologies. Nothing.

_Nothing._

_Shiva_, she felt empty.

Stifling what was either a sob or a growl with her pillow, she rolled over and closed her eyes. She had a few more hours before the kids would be up, and was completely lacking the motivation to roll out of bed just yet. She'd sleep, and maybe, if she was lucky, she would dream of being happy.

* * *

"Never pegged you as the depressed type."

The voice-mischief and sin-tickled her ear, swinging her head around. Her stance was immediately defensive, her expression guarded.

Blue eyes, deeper than the sky and hinted twilight dark, smiled at her. "Been a long time, Lockhart."

Tifa blinked, rubbed her eyes, blinked again. Nope, still there. Dark hair, devil-may-care grin, dimples and smug charm. "Zack?"

His smile widened and he opened his arms. "You remembered!"

She dropped her stance, inclined her head. "Yeah, well, you're kind of hard to forget."

"I am pretty good looking-"

"You were there when my hometown burnt to the ground."

He stopped and rubbed the back of his neck in a gesture so familiar her breath hitched. "There's that reason, too, I guess," he conceded with a weaker version of his grin. "But I am easy on the eyes," he added. "You've gotta admit that."

"I hadn't noticed."

"Uh-huh." He shifted, turned and sat on a boulder that she hadn't even noticed until that moment. "Neat place, your dream world," he told her.

Looking around, Tifa recognized the spot they were in as one of her hideaway spots when she was a kid. Up a bit from the Devil's Hand trail, it was hidden and hard to get to. She'd gone there a lot after her mother died. To sit, to think, to just be. Without pitying stares and expectations. Away from her father's eyes that never smiled anymore. Away from the other kids that didn't understand why she was 'no fun anymore'.

"So," Zack said, legs swinging back and forth. "What are you hiding from this time?"

Startled, she looked at him.

He shrugged. "Your dream. I only know the things you want me to know."

Seemed logical enough. For dream logic, she supposed. "All right, then, tell me; why you?"

"Hm?"

"Why am I dreaming of you?"

"Because I'm sexy."

She snorted.

"Hey!" Indignant, he poked his tongue out at her.

"We barely spoke when we met, and when we did..."

"You were asking about Cloud," he finished for her with a nod. "Yeah, I remember."

"So..." she rubbed the space between her eyebrows. "It makes no sense why I would dream of you."

Eyes soft, he asked, "You looking for Cloud again?"

Turning her face away Tifa shook her head. "No, not really."

"Why not?"

She arched a glance over her shoulder. "He doesn't want to be found."

"Ah." He nodded, as if he completely understood.

She stood quiet for a few minutes, staring out across her hazy memories. "Am I..." she faltered, tried again, "Am I really so bad?"

"Tifa." He was behind her in an instant, warm hands and strong arms. His chin rested on her shoulder as he hugged her back against his chest. "Don't do that. Don't let him make you doubt yourself."

"It's hard," she confessed. "To want to be everything for someone, and end up being nothing."

"I know." And there was inflection in his voice that told her he _did_ know. It carried a hint of sadness that Tifa felt certain she didn't place there. She frowned, pensive.

"Zack...?"

"Yeah?"

"I am just dreaming, right?"

His answer in coming was too long for her liking. "Yeah. Just a dream." He tucked his chin deeper and nosed her hair.

The motion made her stomach tighten and do a little flip. Unconsciously, she pressed back closer, then paused. "I can feel your heartbeat," she breathed.

"Sure."

"But you're dead."

"Your dream, Tifa." His fingertips brushed along her arms. "I'm as alive as you want me to be." His lips hovered against the shell of her ear. "Anything you want me to be."

She closed her eyes, shivered. "Zack..."

Did he know how much she wanted to lean into him, to feel his heartbeat—real or imagined—to be held and have that_connection_...

"Take what you want," he encouraged, teeth grazing.

Tifa turned in his arms, clutched his face between her hands. Soft, broken sounds hummed against her lips when he kissed her. He made a throaty groan and cupped her jaw, his touch achingly gentle. He shifted his position, lifted his mouth from hers after several long moments.

She stared up at him, her eyes luminous. He watched her as she watched him. Her hand moved, her fingers stroking the dimple on his cheek. "I don't want to use you," she whispered.

With a chuckle he dropped his head so that their foreheads touched. His breath panted out in harsh puffs against her moist lips, and when he met her eyes again there was hard resolve etched on his handsome features and a lingering vulnerability that he couldn't erase. "I'm not him," he whispered, honest, "and I don't want to be. I'm here for you, Tifa, if you'll have me."

Every fantasy she had ever entertained about the charming SOLDIER she'd met at fifteen flashed through her mind in the space of a heartbeat. This had to be a reason she was dreaming of him, right?

Zack was open and honest and charming and funny. He was sunny days and lazy afternoons. He was comfort in heartache.

He wasn't hers to break.

She wasn't his to shatter.

If she chose to go, he'd let her. If she stayed...he'd be willing.

More than willing if the hard press of his body was any indication. He _wanted_ her. Deciding that she wanted him too, she pushed her hand through his hair, rounded the back of his head and pulled him down for a searing kiss.

Dream or not, it felt good.

She had no time to change her mind—not that she planned on it—before his arms closed around her, dragging her to him. He was at once hard, possessive, _male_. Hot and hungry, he worked her mouth, until she was gasping and melting into him. She had to slide her arms around his neck to anchor herself. Her fingers brushed his nape, sinking into his hair as she met his tongue with her own.

Zack pressed his hands to her sides, sliding them beneath the fabric of her cotton top, moving up to cup the soft weight of her breasts in his palms. "We can get rid of these now, yes?" he asked, a bit breathless.

Dreamy, her head lolled back. "Huh?"

His smile was arrogance itself, but she didn't mind. "I'll take that as a yes," he murmured, and the next instant they were flesh on flesh.

"How?"

"Dream, remember?" he teased, lowering her to the layers of silk now at their feet.

Tifa sighed as the cool fabric played over her heated skin. "No bed of roses?" she asked.

"I'm not that cliché, Lockhart."

"Good."

He levered himself above her, hooded eyes following his hands as he took her breasts in his palms, her nipples budding to taut peaks. "So responsive," he hummed appreciatively, thumbs brushing her tender flesh.

"Oh, Gods," she arched into his touch.

Zack leaned back, running one hand over her calf, watching her with dark, unreadable eyes. "Candlelight," he said, suddenly, and gone was the sun and in its place tapered candles and the soft hum of distant music.

"Nice," Tifa gasped. In the flickering candlelight she lay, gloriously naked, sprawled before him and feeling more beautiful than she had in months. She felt selfish, suddenly. She was doing nothing for him and he was bathing her in silk and candlelight.

"I don't want you to," he cut her off, even before the doubts could creep in and latch on. He crawled over her, placed her fingertips against his lips, played with them with his teeth and tongue. "I don't need you to take care of me. Let me take care of you. Tell me what you want. Take what you want."

To the rest of the world Tifa Lockhart was sturdy, dependable and strong. But here, with him she was vulnerable and in need of care, and he was there for her. She drank in the sight of him crouched above her, his body tense with desire. He had strong, muscular arms, broad, expansive shoulders, tight flat abs. Her eyes drifted lower... And being healthily endowed could be added to that list. She lifted her gaze to his, noticing the purple hint to his eyes. "I want to touch you," she said.

Without a word he stretched out beside her, giving her free reign over his body. Tifs rolled onto her side, her dark hair across her shoulder to dance against his chest. Zack brushed the strands in front of her eyes back with his knuckles. She sighed, leaning forward to inhale against his skin.

Cloud always smelled of something sharp, and wild, and tangy. Zack was something equally wild, but warmer, spicier. She bent closer, her mouth trailing languidly across his neck. "You smell nice," she told him on a whisper.

Tifa closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his smooth skin beneath her lips. His hands wandered as she drank her fill, stroking along the smooth curve of her back and along her arms. He groaned faintly when her teeth tugged at a nipple.

He slid one hand down her body, stroking the nest of curls at the apex of her thighs. She shivered and he seemed to take that as his cue to go forward. He stroked his fingers between her folds. She pushed against his hand, a soft moan that sounded like his name escaping her parted lips. He tilted his head, watched her face.

Tifa lifted one knee up to rest on his hip, allowing Zack complete access to her secrets; an action that he took full advantage of. He rolled them so that he was resting between her legs, his thumb pressed against her clit while he stroked two fingers deep.

"Gods, you're so damn beautiful, Tifa," he said, voice hoarse.

Tifa hadn't ever heard her name like that. Washed in sex and need, with more than a hint of desperation. She opened her eyes and grasped his face between her hands. "I want you inside of me, Zack."

"Tell me how you want me," he groaned, moving his hand to replace it with the thick head of his cock. "I want to hear you say naughty things to me."

Blushing, Tifa told him, "Deep and hard," before clutching his hips and pulling him flush. It was her dream, after all. She could be a little...assertive.

Chuckling, Zack cupped her ass and rolled forward.

_Sweet Gaia! _Pleasure. Waves of it.

"More?" Zack questioned, pistoning hard.

Tifa tilted her head back. "More."

His jaw tightened and his eyes swirled. His teeth flashed in a grin as he shifted his hips so that he stroked _just right_

Tifa gasped, both from pleasure and shock. "Zack...I..."

"Almost there." He stroked his hand over her sweat dampened hair. "You just have to trust me." He thrust and snapped his hips at the same time. "Let go."

She closed her eyes, fingers scoring his shoulders. Just let go... "Wait...I..."

"Trust me," he encouraged.

"I don't know," she whispered, body aching, approaching orgasm. If she let go, who would be there to catch her?

"I will" he told her, anchoring her hips with his hands, driving deeper. "Promise."

"Please, Zack, I can't think…" She scrambled for rational thought as her inner walls tightened. She grit her teeth against the pleasure.

Zack kissed her chin, nipped it. "You know it's why I came back," he rasped. "To be the one for you."

Tifa shook her head. No, this was just a dream. A fantastic, _oh, Gods, yes, right there,_ dream, but just that. A silly fantasy conjured by a lonely heart.

Zack slid completely out of her, stroked the head of his dick against her clit. "Does this really feel like a dream?" he whispered before surging in again.

Her answer was stolen when she fractured into a thousand shards of rapture. Her hands clamored across his back, pulling him down to her as she screamed her release. He caught her close to his chest, held her as she arched and bucked and tumbled along sensation.

They lay on the floor in a tangle of arms and legs, fighting for breath. It wasn't until the sweat cooled and heartbeats returned to normal that she turned her head to look at him. "Explain."

Zack brushed his knuckles down her cheek, smirking at her tone. "Truthfully, at first I didn't know why I came back," he admitted. "I thought it was for Cloud. But then...I didn't go away when he won against Sephiroth. I didn't return where I was supposed to...so I wondered, if not for Cloud, why was I here?"

Tifa waited patiently. Confused, but patient

Zack shifted, raising himself up on one elbow. "I could feel this sadness...I had this ache." He touched his chest. "It came and went, but then it grew. Until it was all I could do to stand it, so I followed it." He met her eyes. "And found you."

"But...but you said this was a dream."

"It is." He touched her lips with his. "I can't be corporeal, or I would punch Cloud in the head and come sweep you off your feet. But I can be this. I can do this."

Tifa swallowed the lump in her throat. "I don't..." she shook her head. "I can't use you like that."

"I hardly feel used," he told her. "Happy. Sated. Content. Not used." He arched a brow. "Do you feel used?"

She thought about it. "No."

"What do you feel?"

Warm. Safe. Content. Connected.

_Happy._

"This can't work, not really." She didn't know who she was trying to convince, Zack or that wicked ember of hope in her heart that refused to die. Someone that loved her. "A relationship in my dreams?"

"Why not?" Zack asked. "You sleep every night. We could have hours together. Do things, go places that other people can only...well, dream of."

"Cloud." She threw the name down like a brick wall between them.

Zack sighed and carded his hands through his hair. "I don't have an answer for that one."

"No, I don't imagine you do." She sat up, her hair a veil between them. "I don't..." she sighed, tried again. "I don't know how not to love him," she confessed on a whisper.

"Tifa," Zack's hands and voice were gentle. "I'm not asking you to. I'm just wondering—hoping—that maybe we can try. Just try."

"I don't know. This is really kind of...unusual. To put it mildly."

"Just think, 'my boyfriend is a ghost' is such a conversation topper." His dimple flashed. He touched her hair, brushed it back to see her face. "No pressure. Just think about it. And if you want," he leaned in to nuzzle her neck. "You can dream of me."

* * *

Tifa woke on a trembling sigh and her body still tingling. She smiled to herself and burrowed her face into the pillows.

Detergent and vanilla and something warm and spicy greeted her.

Startled, she sat up abruptly, smacking the alarm clock onto the floor and nearly tumbling from the bed. That had all been a dream...right?

She pushed her hair back and took a steadying breath. But...what if?

Shaking herself, she looked down at the fallen alarm clock. Just a little past six. Kids wouldn't be up or need breakfast for another hour. She could get up now and have a non-rushed, peaceful shower and a cup of coffee. Or...she could roll over and go back to sleep...

* * *

Breakfast was late, her coffee was rushed, but the grin on her face remained all day.

* * *

AN: Done for a prompt on Livejournal's Springkink Community. :D


End file.
